


Running & Falling

by QuantumAbyss_mal (lonestarjdv)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:34:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26098720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonestarjdv/pseuds/QuantumAbyss_mal
Summary: Tazvan isn't into men. Of course, Tazvan has never met a half-human, half-Galra named Keith Kogane.
Relationships: Keith/OMC (Voltron)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17





	Running & Falling

Tazvan’s marriage was over. His wife told him he was lying to himself. 

He loved her. He quite literally gave her the world. His world. The world he had fought tooth and nail to drag from the dark ages into some semblance of civilization, or at least what he had read of it. There was access to drinking water and ample food. The planet had sufficient defenses and established trade relationships. Colonists had started flocking to his world without anyone even advertising. If you lived in Delstar system, you knew that his home planet was safe and stable and open to all. And all because of him. Eventually he built a team, sure. You couldn’t run a world, even a backwater one, of 3 million and growing by yourself, but without him there would be no team, no water, no food, no defense, no trade. 

And it hadn’t been enough to make his marriage work.

Tireless days and nights. Thankless. All he wanted was to come home and collapse into the arms of his beloved. He had read the books about romance, same as he had read the books on civilization. He knew to take it all with a grain of salt but how had he failed so badly? How had his marriage gone so wrong when his world-building had gone so right? Or was it just a matter of time before his planet--his scrappy, ragtag, beautiful planet--did the same? Maybe even sooner rather than later. The blasted Blade of Mamarra, or whatever they called themselves, had appeared out of nowhere to “help” rebuild in the “aftermath” of the war and everything was going to hell. 

They didn’t need to rebuild. They had done all their building well clear of the empire in the first place. Who were these “blades” to tell him that his planet wasn’t good enough? Apparently some commander had shown up. A real bigwig that Tazvan was set to meet with the next day. Just what he needed. Someone else to tell him how bad he was at his own life. He signaled to the bartender for another round. 

He surveyed the bar as he waited for his next drink. Not a single face the same. A chaotic rainbow of dress and size, texture and color. He was most proud of how species that were known to war in other parts of their galaxy coexisted peacefully in his, some even starting partnerships in business or life. He recognized most of them, if not personally, then at least by species or homeworld. As tied as he was to his home, he had traveled farther afield than most of his citizens would in their entire lives. When he reached the end of the bar, he was surprised to find something, or someone, new. 

He thought it might be the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen. While most of the occupants of this quadrant were scaled or furred to some degree, himself included, this creature was smooth with a light dusting of what appeared to be hair, the majority focused on the top of its head, a raven pile of unruly strands that flashed purple or blue rather than black as it turned its head in the light, taking stock of the bar as Taz himself was doing. He looked maybe a moment longer than he should have, admiring aquiline features in profile, dark lashes framing bright, curious eyes. Eyes that were suddenly looking directly back at him. He couldn’t tell across the length of the room, but he thought they might be a dark blue. He considered as the stranger continued to look at him, blinking in surprise, then amusement, the corners of its mouth turning up and its eyes crinkling. 

The gesture seemed pleased, and Taz was unexpectedly filled with warmth at the thought that he could have given this creature pleasure. The bartender delivered his drink, but it was forgotten in the face of his new diversion. He asked the bartender what his friend at the end of the bar was drinking. 

‘Nunvil, straight.” 

Taz involuntarily grimaced. 

“I offered him something different, something better.” 

The grimace deepened. “You’re sure it’s a him?” 

“That’s what his galaxy pass says. Easy enough to change if he wasn’t a him. You gonna buy him a drink?” The bartender raised an eyebrow as he waited for Taz’s response. 

Taz’s wife’s--ex-wife’s--voice echoed in his head. “You’re lying to yourself baby. I won’t let you lie to me, too. Be happy. Go find yourself a man.” Taz snorted dismissively at the memory. She didn’t know what she was talking about. He wasn’t one of “those.” Not that there was any problem with “those.” He just wasn’t. No sir, he thought as he watched the man with the pretty eyes on the other side of the bar watch him. “Anything else I should know about him?” 

“He’s clean. Offworld. Only here for a couple days.” 

Taz nodded sharply in affirmation, and the bartender walked off to fill the order. He didn’t take his eyes off his new friend until the drink had been delivered. The man downed what remained in his glass--Tazvan cringed inwardly. Nunvil was disgusting--and accepted the new glass with a grateful nod and raise of the glass in Taz’s direction. He smiled and nodded back, then returned to his drink. Ball was out of his court. 

Until abruptly and more quickly than he thought possible it was back in it again. He hadn’t even raised his glass to his lips when the man had disappeared from the corner of the bar and instead was at his elbow. Fast. Quiet. He noticed slender fingers, strong and calloused pressed lightly at his upper arm to get his attention. It was a soft touch, but Taz felt it like a brand through his flight suit. They were eye to eye with Taz seated and the same amusement that he’d seen before still lingered in the stranger’s features. He couldn’t help but smile in return. 

His new friend gestured to an empty booth with his drink, and Taz stood to follow. The furless one wasn’t small by any means, but as Taz stood it was clear that he was at least two heads taller. The little one gasped and his eyes opened wide. Against a full field of white, it was clear that, yes, his eyes were indeed a very deep blue. He wasn’t scared. He was...something else. It was familiar, but Taz couldn’t put his finger on it. He noticed heat blooming in his belly and spreading outward toward his fingers and toes. He had a sudden desire to touch this beautiful, brazen thing that had approached him. To envelop it in his arms and protect it, though it looked perfectly capable of protecting itself, a wicked blade tied at its hip. 

He turned him toward the table with a gentle touch to his lower back, then followed him through the crowd to the quiet corner. The touch wasn’t enough and Taz suddenly wished that his planet was one that danced recreationally just to give him another excuse to put his hands on whatever--whoever--- this was.

As they slid into the booth, Taz was gratified to find his new friend’s knee pressed firmly against his own under the tabletop. Whatever these feelings were that he was having, apparently they were reciprocated and he burned with it. They sat side by side in the booth, backs to a wall, facing known entries and exits. They both scanned for several long minutes, evaluating risk, before the man finally spoke. 

“Are you going to say something?”

The voice was the equivalent to the touch to his upper arm, but instead of a single point of heat, Taz felt it everywhere. He closed his eyes and let the sensation wash over him. He looked down at his glass and tried to remember how many drinks he’d had that night. Too many?

Those same slender fingers came to rest over his wrist as he considered his drink.

“Or we could just get out of here?”

Taz suddenly wanted nothing more. To talk, he told himself. Somewhere quieter. Less public. To get to know this enigma a little better. To look into his eyes in better light. 

Quieter and less public turned out to be the other man’s hotel room. 

Outside the room the mysterious stranger leaned back against a wall, tilted his hips toward Tazvan and reached for his hands. Tazvan reached back reflexively and the smaller man squeezed his fingers into his palms. He pulled him closer, the full Galra’s body shielding the smaller being’s body from sight. He inclined his head to bring his lips as close to Tazvan’s as he could without moving forward into his space. 

“I’m not into men,” Taz breathed between them. 

Blue eyes looked down and he nodded slowly as he looked up at Tazvan again. “Me neither,” he whispered for only Taz to hear. He tugged on Tazvan’s hands and Taz let himself fall, their lips colliding. 

In 25 years Taz hadn’t stopped falling after this man. Eventually his husband. His 10 am and the Commander of the Blades. Keith Kogane. 

His ex-wife had been right, not that he would ever let her know. Turned out Taz /had/ been lying to himself. He was absolutely as gay as the day was long. Or at least he was for this man. Falling in love with Keith was like being caught in a riptide. All there was for it was to relax and enjoy the ride. And what a ride. Keith could fight and fuck and fly and lead and listen. 

Taz suspected that Keith was running from something, but eventually he stopped caring so long as Keith kept running back to him. There were plenty of times Taz thought Keith might be the death of him. And then thought immediately after that it would be a good end. 

One year became two and their relationship went from rushed encounters in hotel rooms to a shared flat on Taz’s planet. A pantry stocked with Keith’s favorite things to eat, a shelf of toiletries in the shower, and a closet full of clothes that weren’t uniforms. Taz started to have a strange feeling that he hadn’t ever experienced in his first marriage. He wanted children. With Keith. He wanted to raise kids with this man. 

They were at a ceremonial wedding, diplomatic duties and all, and Taz leaned over to his love. “Marry me.”

Keith looked back with a smile. “No. /You/ marry /me/.” 

“Fine. If that’s what you want.”

“It is.” 

At their wedding Krolia made a joke about Kogane men getting what they wanted. 

Taz laughed. “They never get away, huh?” 

The ghost of something passed across her face and left behind a too-tight smile, quickly forgotten in the noise and bustle of the celebration. 

When Taz finally followed Keith to their room for the night he was sitting on the edge of their bed, sobbing over his phone.

The text just said “congratulations.” 

It was the same sentiment that they'd seen or heard a million times that day and the days leading up to it. Keith had always responded appropriately if not totally effusively. 

This new response had Taz worried. 

And that’s when he learned what, or rather who, it was that Keith had been running from. On his wedding night, Taz heard the story about the man Keith had crossed the universe to save, a man who had chosen someone else. 

Taz’s first impression was that this man, Shiro, was a complete idiot. But Keith would never love an idiot; so it must have been more.complicated. Certainly more complicated than he would be able to figure out after countless bottles of champagne.

With his new husband’s permission, Taz responded to the text. Thx. And then they agreed to close the book on Takashi Shirogane and shelve it. 

More than two decades later, when their youngest son decides to attend the Galaxy Garrison, he knocks the book off the shelf again.

**Author's Note:**

> This is background for Keith's relationship in Khoury: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25341880/chapters/61445089 because why not?


End file.
